


His Favorite Canvas

by behindskylines (deanlovessammymorethanpie)



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Painting!Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovessammymorethanpie/pseuds/behindskylines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank spends time with Gerard while he paints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Favorite Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted January 20, 2009 on livejournal under the name behindskylines.

Frank tapped the ash from his cigarette and into the ashtray nestled in the curve of his hip, his feet keeping a random rhythm. He turned the page of his magazine, and looked up with he heard the muttered curse from the other side of the studio. He took another drag. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, just dropped this paintbrush in the wrong color and didn't notice until it was already on the canvas."

Frank sat up, pulling himself off the beat up couch they had drug up two fucking flights of stairs, jesus (but he did love being able to relax and spend time with Gerard while he was painting, so whatever...), and walked over to where Gerard was standing in front of his latest piece, eyeing the wash of dark red with a critical eye. Frank turned to the easel, and looked at the painting. It was a painting he was working on for himself, just something he had started to keep the nightmares and random shakes away. They still came, sometimes, and less often than in the beginning. But, even after years of being sober, Gerard was still recovering, still overcoming his demons. He turned back to art instead of bottles, to Frank instead of cocaine. Frank considered it a win.

"I don't see what you're talking about."

Gerard gestured to the canvas with a paint-splattered finger. "Here..." he followed a line of bright blue with his finger.

"It wasn't intentional?" Frank asked. It was an abstract piece. Back when Gerard had painted mostly comic book characters and horror movie monsters, it was a little bit easier to tell if he had made a mistake (which wasn't that often), but since he had started on more abstract pieces, it was harder to tell what wasn't deliberate. (Gerard said that he had moved on from monsters to abstract work because back when he drew monsters, he knew what was making him ache. Now, when the pain came, it was more abstract, like the squiggles of red across pale stretched canvas).

"Nope." Gerard leaned over, and took the cigarette from between Frank's fingers, took a drag. Frank didn't even really notice. They've been sharing cigarettes for longer than he could remember, had been sharing more than that for possibly longer. They both looked at the line for a minute before Frank shrugged, and gestured for his cigarette back. Gerard handed it over (with like, two drags left, the bastard) and shrugged himself. "I like it though." He shoved a hand through his hair, not caring that he had red hands.

Frank nodded, eyed the streak of red paint on Gerard's black hair, and resigned himself to the fact that he would probably have to bleach that paint off of the porcelain of the tub before finishing the cigarette and leaning over to Gerard's work table to stub it out in the overflowing ashtray there.

Gerard was staring at the paint, a swipe of blue now against his eyebrow, like he had scratched it, with his head tilted to the side. Frank figured the crisis had been adverted, and turned to walk back to his couch. He had almost taken his first step before a strong hand on his arm stopped him. Gerard had turned him back around and pulled him close while Frank was still spinning from the sudden movements. Leaning down, Gerard kissed him, deep and soft, all at the same time. Just another one of their kisses, nothing special about it, everything about it amazing. Frank sighed softly into Gerard's mouth before Gerard pulled away, letting Frank's bottom lip from between his teeth with an audible pop.

"I love you." Gerard said, eyes bright.

Frank grinned. "I love you too." He stood up on tip-toes to peck a kiss against Gerard's lips before rocking down to the heels of his feet. He smiled again, and turned to make his way to the couch.

Gerard slapped his ass, and Frank knew that there was probably a bright red handprint on the pocket of his jeans. And more paint spread around where Gerard's wandering hands had been. And now it was going to get all over the already paint-marked fabric of the couch. Frank though, "Fuck it." as he crossed his ankles over the far armrest of the couch, lit another cigarette, and picked back up his magazine. 

Turning on the radio, Gerard started singing along with a Beatles song, and Frank sighed, lulled into peace by the smell of paint and smoke mixing, and Gerard's voice.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
